FOOT CHOMPin a now-defunct personal blogJuly 4, 2006

I returned to the house to grab a few things. It was only five minutes away from the office, and I still had another hour before the festival I had to cover. My roommates seemed surprised to see me back so soon. Both had the day off, and they seemed a bit anxious. Did I interrupt their afternoon shag?

“Um, Karen…” my co-worker/roomie said. “Did you give Ella a gremlin?”

Ella (Fitzgerald) is their year-and-a-half-old yellow dog. But this particular mutt is no scat singer. Though at times adorable, she sheds everywhere and whines. A lot.

“A gremlin?” I asked.

My co-worker/roomie grabbed a long-eared brown-and-white replica of Gizmo in the living room and handed it to me. Gizmo is my roadie. I bring him to all my road trips, and he rides in the passenger seat. He sleeps in my bed.

His ears, eyes and grin were in tact, but his feet… were mangled. A hole was where his left foot should’ve been. His right foot fared better, except his toes were gone.

“I’m so sorry!” the husband and wife said. “She was chewing on it on our bed, and I didn’t know what it was and…”

I tuned them out.

“Where can we get you another one? Online?”

It was a birthday present for my 20th.

“Oh no. We’ll get you another one!”

It’s okay. It’s cool! Insert fake chuckle.

I retreated to my room and laid Gizmo on my desk. Today I will feed the dog some chocolate. And apologize later.